Girls with Pride

Chapter Five

If my life were a song it would 100% be either 'Forest' by Twenty One Pilots or 'Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time' by Panic! At the Disco. Why? I hear you cry in confusion, and I'll tell you why- they would be my soundtrack for the sole reason that no one has any idea what the hell is going on and have ended up bursting into song.
If that does not describe my life at every waking moment I seriously don't know what does. Normally, my friends and I were that lone and awful performer in town that everyone just gives the side-eye to and carries on walking, but not today.
No, definitely not today. Unavoidable and certainly strange, we were the centre of attention for the whole corridor, including the poor humanities teachers in the office a few classrooms down. As obnoxious and just plain ridiculous as James Potter in every possible Marauders head-cannon, Paige, Grace and Jess had donned the personality of TV interviewers and were flinging unnecessary questions at random people passing by:

'Are my eyes grey or blue? Answer me!'
'Here we are with (insert random name here). How are you today? No come back!'

Periodically, they would get a willing participant and would stand there victorious and unable to think of any questions, resulting in them just starting to sing spontaneously as encouraged us to follow suit. Naturally, we complied.
That's how we were found by our assistant head just casually sprouting out tuneless vocals to 'Hakuna Matata' stridently .
Belatedly, they grasped the fact no-one was going to even acknowledge the three stooges so haphazardly resorted to speaking to people in song lyrics for as long as possible before they realised, then screamed the song out in an orotund voice. Myriads of songs with ear-splitting vocals later, we paused for a moment whether to preserve our pristine voices or the sanity of those around us.
I think 'Forest' and, yeah I can't be bothered writing that out again, were actually quite feasible to describe my life.
'So, has anyone got any requests for the next few songs?' Grace inquired, breathless from either singing (If it was worthy of the title) or laughing pretty much manically.
For the first time that day, we used our brains and thought of a decent couple of songs.
'Right, it's between Grenade by Bruno Mars or Umbrella by - what Rihanna are we choosing?'
Collectively, we glanced to each other, and nodded.
'Umbrella.' 
Grace smiled smugly, clasping her hands together, remarkably resembling a proud otter with its 'special' rock.
'Showtime'

IT. Significantly one of the most important and beneficial components for our blossoming generation and for many to come. However, it posed an indisputable question; how can they make it so boring in school?
Seriously, computers are so important in today's society, so what does our incredible education board do?  Teach it with flair, or give it the demure background it deserves? No. Instead, it over complicates it beyond belief; contorts the features of something so beautiful into grotesque; leeches every vaguely alluring attribute to leave only boredom in its wake.
Great job government.
Anyhow, that's where we were stationed at this point, counting down the seconds until we could escape this darkening abyss of  numbers and binaries upon binaries and numbers of apathy to P.E, our sanctuary.
Look, I'm well aware I'm milking the subject of lousy governing enough to make an abundance of milkshakes, but if I get an opportunity to laugh at the 'Great' British government I will. No offence to the Royal family, but your government sucks.
'Jesus, I'm so bored it's incredible I haven't died on the spot.' Paige whispered, her voice the wind in a hollowed cave, 'Anyway, I've been thinking-'
'Never a good sign if I'm being truthful.' I countered , hoping I hadn't done anything wrong. She glared at me coldly and carried on as though she hadn't heard me.
'We should give it a name.' She beamed proudly, evidently pleased with her world changing ideology.
I blinked obtusely, staring at her as though she was a person who had grown several heads before my very eyes.
'I don't want to seem a bit thick, but give...what a name?' I approached the subject with caution; I did not want this to end badly.
Morosely, she huffed and rolled her eyes gratuitously.
'Do you really not know?' At this point even her computer was beeping at me indignantly, warning me to recall what Paige was harping on about. Yeah I had no idea whatsoever.
'Yeah I have no idea whatsoever.' Say it is, eh?  Clearly, she was getting more and more annoyed by the minute- any minute she would start whistling like a boiled kettle, steam pouring from her ears.
'Fine. I'll tell you. I think we should call your... sexuality thing Doug so we can talk about it in front of Izzy and and probably like everyone else as well.'
In short, I was dumbfounded. However, I'm going to assume you'd prefer the longer version so I might as well fall subservient. Realistically, I don't know how exactly she expected me to react, I mean, it's just a little bit peculiar to label a label as 'Doug' never mind the fact she wanted to talk about my sexuality as though it were its own person, but what the hell. At this point I had everything and nothing to lose. Logic with Alex.
'I mean, not the most normal demeaned you've given me, but I couldn't care less what you call it as long as you don't tell anyone the full story.'
Her eyes were scintillating, radiant with euphoria and I knew I'd made the right choice; her happiness was quite possibly worth the potential humiliation I could be put through.  I didn't care, for most of my life I'd been plagued with pâro (the feeling that anything you do is always wrong)  anyways, so it felt rewarding to finally do something that felt 99% right. I guess.
Humming happily along to 'Lovely' by TØP, we worked through the rest of the lesson with ease, only pausing every once and a while to answer the girl's next to us endless questions.
Soon enough the bell rang, a voice of a strained foghorn blaring out 5 times in total. 
Katy and I rambled in the general direction of P.E, sniggering at Paige's dance-like stilt.
'Do we really have to got to PE? I can not be even the tiniest bit bothered.' I griped irritatingly.
'Yes Alex, we do it's badminton today.' She scoffed kindly, rolling her eyes at this tiny figure with a surprising amount of antagonizing complaint to do.
'Exactly! That's the point! Oh wow that was an impressive voice break, I sounded like a dying goat.' Not wrong.
How my friends didn't throttle me I will never know.

Either way, I was forced absolutely brutally to got to P.E, and abhorred  every second of it if you couldn't already guess.

'I still can't believe we had to do P.E with year 10's... they're dead sly! I swear, if one of them stare at me one more time I'm going to batter them!' Paige then ranted about 'the cheek' of year 10's for approximately 79 1/2 hours. That was an exaggeration by the way, I thought I'd put it out there in case you thought she spent over 3 days talking non stop about 15 year olds. Although, now I'm actually thinking about it, it seems quite an attainable feat for a girl who could get annoyed at someone for quite literally glancing at her.

Sorry, continuation on its way. Where were we? Oh yeah, maths last period  (once again) and slowly losing the will to live. Somewhat effortlessly, Mr Farrell managed to both annoy or bore us half to death simultaneously. Personally, I thought it was impressive he was able to drone on like a broken phonograph for an hour and then complain whenever we talked; at least we had decent things to say instead of bloody algebra!
Underneath the authority of Oliver Cromwell the second, we completely ignored his empty threats and carried on our conversations about everything except maths just to stress him out. Lovely children.
Opposite me, Paige was noticeably trying to catch my eye.
'Paige is there a specific reason you're signalling at me in some sort of morse code, or are have you just taken to being some sort of sign language interpreter?' I asked just a little bit sarcastically.
'Ha, funny. Yeah so what should we do about Doug?'
'What about...him?'
'Have you spoken to him yet?'
Oh it's a real person now apparently.
'...no?'
'Yeah, well I heard he was gay and stuff.' She nodded thoughtfully like she'd solved one of Landau's problems.
'Who's gay?'
Perplexed, Izzy had heard enough snippets of conversation to become interested, or just wanted us to shut up.
'Subtle.' I looked at Paige quite amused by her ingenious plan to bring up 'Doug'.
'What? I'm so confused.' Bewilderment was etched into Izzy's features and I didn't blame her.
'It's no-one, don't worry.' Paige flicked her hair and grinned like the Cheshire Cat over at me.
Izzy glanced at me as if to say 'What the hell is going on?', but I just sighed exasperatedly and shook my head non the wiser,
'I've got no idea if truth be told.'
(Cue music- 'Forest' this time)